


bubblegum and mint

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Connor, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Implied Sexual Content, Lowercase, M/M, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Thirsty Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Thirsty Markus, Top Markus (Detroit: Become Human), lowercase intended, that escalated quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23939866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: markus smelled like mint, and connor was intoxicated. [lowercase intended]
Relationships: Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	bubblegum and mint

connor felt his emotions swell as he walked into the precinct with a newfound shame, but he still couldn’t ground himself with the logical excuse of, ‘no one will know unless you tell them.’

it wasn’t centred on the fact he had killed many men, many women, many of his own kind, no. he had put that behind him and aimed to start anew. it was centred on the heterochromatic deviant leader. 

the damned deviant leader, with his tan complexion, immaculate fashion sense, velvet voice and chocolate personality. he was sweet like honey, rivers flowing with no end, heart pure and hands calloused. 

connor hated to love him. 

connor, with the coconut hair, the vanilla lips, the strawberry cheeks, the milky skin. 

connor wasn’t ugly, nor was he undesirable, he knew that from the raspberry-coloured smudges of partiality that were hungrily littered across his neck, chest, back, wherever there was a clean patch of pale skin, the thought left a sweet, bubblegum flavour on his tongue, his hands felt cold, shaking as connor threaded a gentle hand through his cinnamon locks to ground himself from these thoughts but failed as he felt markus buried within him, air becoming minty and suffocating, much like the older man’s cologne. 

connor was so sure he could stand above everything, ruling unbothered tranquility with a straight face, a nonchalant crown resting atop his head with a butterscotch aroma. it was sickening to remain dispassionate because his handlers forced it upon the boy. 

markus stepped one foot into connor’s palace of unsentimental essence, the latter’s butterscotch crown tipping off and walls rumbling, floors crumbling as mint and velvet clouded his brain, filling his senses with markus, markus, markus. 

hank stared at connor with daffodil eyes, confused as he sat with a solemn expression, “everything alright, kid?” he asked with a fatherly, caramel type of tone. 

connor dismissively nodded, “yes, everything is good.” he turned to hank with a gentle smile, “you?”

hank waved his hand with a grin, “you know me, same as always. but, you sure you good? you seem pretty lost in thought.”

connor shivered with the faint taste of tutti frutti on his fingertips, mint leaves gently wrapping around his mind, leaving him intoxicated with the smell, “yes.” 

hank raised an eyebrow in mocking disbelief, a teasing quirk upwards of his lips and a brief motion to connor’s led, “then why’s your led red?”

connor’s hand flew up to the ruby, telltale ring embedded into his right temple, covering it with his gentle, right hand. his breath shook with the memory of last night, eyes softening with the hint of mint he was provided with, “i don’t know.”

“huh? alright, i won’t ask no more. we got some files to look through, if ya’ wouldn’t mind getting your head clean of whatever you were thinking about.”

“duly noted,” connor said softly, hand falling from his led and back into his lap before slowly making his way to the files on his desk, flicking through them, peach brain preoccupied with the mint that lingered for days on end. 

dear god, connor loved mint. 

markus was more than just mint, he was more than connor’s solace, more than connor’s programming. connor had walked away from every mission with a blank expression, orange tang at the back of his throat as he spared a glance at the “mission successful” in his periphery, he had walked away without hesitation, every mission exhilarating but nonetheless keeping connor impassive. 

markus was more than a mission, connor hadn’t realised it until he stepped into the hold, unable to comprehend the beauty ahead of him. connor felt light-headed with all his thoughts shooting him from all angles but broke through his wall of apathy and accepted his doubts, fears, the fact he was alive, he accepted it for the mint-man with the velvet voice and red-apple lips. 

“-nor, connor!” hank was calling him. 

“yes, hank?”

“jesus, son, are you alright?” hank muttered a string of curses.

“absolutely, i just got lost in my train of thought.”

“wanna share?”

connor shook his head, “i’m not sure myself what i was thinking about, my mind was on everything, before suddenly nothing.” 

connor knew what he was thinking about, but wouldn’t dare tell hank, he wouldn’t even know how to word it. 

hank laughed, “that’s being alive for ya’; reality is often confusing.” 

the cinnamon-haired boy nodded, not being able to cradle the idea of what markus was to him. a lover? a partner? a quick release? 

connor shrugged, “definitely.”

 _‘hello, gorgeous.’_ came a velvety voice from within connor’s head, sending violent shivers down his spine with every syllable, words flowing off the voice’s tongue like honey. 

speak of the devil.

connor could almost taste the mint. 

_‘hello to you too, markus. how are you?’_ connor responded as nonchalantly as possible. 

_‘good, good. you?’_ markus said with a preoccupied sigh. 

_‘i’m alright. you sound busy, what are you doing?’_ connor asked, eyeing hank to see if the latter was watching him, which he wasn’t. 

_‘sorting out legal stuff for jericho. i’m in my office, and there’s a desk.’_

_‘of course there’s a desk, markus.’_

_‘it seems as if you’re not catching on to what i’m saying, connor.’_

_‘i do not, what are you implying?’_

connor knew what markus was thinking, but he wanted to hear it, biting his lip. 

_‘you... sure you don’t know?’_ markus teased.

_’mm, no, i don’t, tell me.’_

_’i want to bend over this desk and fuck you until that pretty little head of yours can’t function properly.’_ markus paused, a primal groan escaping his lips, _’i want to fuck you senseless, leave your bubblegum-scent across every corner of my office, i want to mark every inch of your body with pretty purple bruises, i want to leave my fingerprint in your hips.’_

connor held back a groan, hank now watching him with a curious expression, perhaps lemon tinged, “kid, you alright there?”

connor jerked out of his conversation, “yes! yes, i am good, very good.”

“who’re you talkin’ to?” hank raised an eyebrow.

connor gulped down the taste of mint, “c-cyberlife.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“nobody of i-interest, hank.” connor stood, i need a coffee, do you want one?”

hank nodded. 

_‘well, connor?’_ the velvet voice was back, _’when your shift is over, do you wanna help me tint the walls bubblegum?’_

‘please.’ connor pleaded with a small voice. 

_‘it’s settled then.’_ markus sighed, _‘see you, my bubblegum boy.’_

_‘see you.’_


End file.
